Too focused on leaders and Confederate “cause”?

There’s been some talk lately, on the blogosphere and elsewhere, about the possibility that the S.C.V. will get a Nathan Bedford Forrest license plate in Mississippi. Brooks Simpson blogged about it today, and Eric Wittenberg blogged about it on the 10th. While both of them explain why Forrest should not be on a plate (and I agree), I’m going to go at this from a different angle.

The problem is that, within an organization supposedly focused on the Confederate veteran, there’s a love affair for 1) the leaders and 2) “the cause”. I doubt we’ll see some great shift from the current trend (though actually, the current trend is more indifference toward, rather than recognition of…), but the story of the Confederate veteran would be better served by taking the common man approach.

Who was the basic Confederate veteran and how should those descended from one (or several) remember him/them?

Frankly, instead of license plates with Confederate leaders, or even a Confederate battleflag… IF we MUST have some sort of Confederate imagery… I’d like to see something like this, from W.L. Sheppard portraying a Confederate infantryman…

Something simple, something unassuming. Something that shows the common man, and where he was, willing or not (yes, OR NOT), at that particular time in history. Something that leaves us asking about the man behind the uniform… not the man behind the symbol or the leader(s)… and, most certainly, we don’t need to know about the man in the car, who defines his Confederate ancestor by the symbol or the leader(s) on the plate.

Instead of the in-your-face imagery of leaders and symbols, how about imagery that makes people ask questions? The first that will probably come to mind to many is… “what/who is that on the license plate?”

Maybe instead of assuming more meaning behind the flag, a symbol with the flag, or a leader, people would be given a chance to engage/interact the imagery… and preferably imagery that does not automatically put one on the defensive (or offensive).

You want people to ask more questions.

“Who was that man in the uniform?”

“What made-up the Confederate soldier, who, in turn, became the Confederate veteran?”

“How was the individual man part of the Confederate story?”

“Was he willing, unwilling?”

“Was he enthusiastic for ‘the cause’… for ‘a cause’?”

“Was he reluctant? Did he become disillusioned, disaffected?”

“How did the man, in the uniform, as a person, struggle with the issues of the day… as handed down to him, not only at the hands of the enemy, but at the hands of those who controlled affairs, in his own state… in his own community… oftentimes the very government under which he served?”

“How did the man see to the needs of his family back at home?”

“Did he desert to tend to them, thinking that he could be more of service to them there, than to a ’cause’ in which he had only part interests?”

“How did he survive, as a man, under these odds, under these elements?”

“How did he continue to exhibit courage (and, I warn you, THAT is defined in many ways)?”

These are just a few good questions to consider, and they are thought provoking if one can get beyond the monolithic terms so commonly used to define the Confederate soldier, and heritage of Confederate ancestry. Regretfully, we won’t answer many of these questions. In most instances, we can’t. But,even if we could, why would we possibly use the answers to define who we are?

What’s important is that we have to make a shift in our approach to heritage.

Defining one’s heritage is complicated enough, but, if reaching for a connection to an ancestor through the Civil War, should one do so through a symbol, a leader, or singularly through a “cause”… that’s not only folly, it’s often a wasted effort.

The real pursuit of heritage is appreciating the challenges we face in understanding the man in the uniform… and not being merely content with the man as defined by the uniform.

I agree it is my CW family members , example of hard work, and devotion to God and Family after the war that I remember and cherish most. He joined at 14 fought his first battle was the Wilderness. His records show he was shot in the head , 4 broken ribs 3 fused crooked, frost bit feet, deaf in his left ear. He must have suffered a lot the rest of his life after fighting in the last 2 years of the war in the ANV in Longstreets Corps.

I would like to see more of the militia uniforms that the common soldiers wore. Don Troianni has a good book with lots of illustrations on the Zouavre militias, state militias, medical staff uniforms. That would be more meaningful to me than honoring Nathan Bedford Forrest.

Great post. I like the idea of using the common soldier to engage in what it really means to be a rebel soldier/veteran. Through those questions, the public can grapple with the complexities of fighting for the Confederacy. But in order to respond to those questions, there are some underlying assumptions that must be shared – namely, that the war was about slavery, and that the uniform the soldier wears is the uniform of an army that is defending slavery. Are SCV members ready to ascribe to those ideas as a way to better understand their ancestors, and thus the common rebel soldier?

I know individuals in the SCV who do ascribe to this, but I’m confident that the national organization of the SCV will never acknowledge the slave point.

But, before I engage you on the uniform and what it represents… and on the Confederate soldier, sum up your perceptions of what “he” was. Are you only under the impression that the Confederate soldier was either wearing gray because 1) he supported slavery, 2) he supported states rights, or 3) he was there to defend hearth and home?

There are many reasons behind why the individual Confederate soldier fought in the Civil War. Before you explore the multitude of individual reasons, you first have to understand the reasoning behind the Civil War in general, and the specific culture the individual solder lived in who fought the war.
For the Civil War, you have to understand, that the individual soldier, by putting on the Confederate gray, tacitly agreed to fight for slavery. Even if he didn’t believe in the cause, or was rabidly against it, or somewhat in the middle, he compromised his own personal morals for survival. it’s a hard choice – choosing between whether to stand fast to your personal beliefs and morals, or compromising them for survival. Many throughout history have had stood in those same shoes. I admit, for many, including me, I don’t know if I would want to face societal ostracizing, exile, internment, or even death. But the fact stands there was a choice. And by putting on that Confederate uniform, those soldiers choose slavery.

“For the Civil War, you have to understand, that the individual soldier, by putting on the Confederate gray, tacitly agreed to fight for slavery.”

For one, as Will points out, it sounds as if you may be unaware (and this is no slight on you) of Southerners in the ranks (even with the militia companies that were activated at the opening of the war) who were there because of other reasons… other than the three reasons I first listed in my initial response to you.

I also think, perhaps, you may be dwelling on the “tacit agreement” thing too much. Sure, we need to keep the fact, in the back of our heads, that the Confederacy became the Confederacy based on interests in preserving the institution of slavery, but, when it came to enlistments, how did the hierarchy of needs of the common Southern man play a role in enlisting under that umbrella? Frankly, I’m of the belief that a good number of those common men who initially (1861) “hitched their wagons” (as for those who enlisted later… I think that becomes even more complicated) to the Confederate army, were much more concerned about that oh-so-often referred to eminent “invading force”, than the preservation of slavery. Slavery existed. It’s what they knew all their lives. It was the status quo, and therefore, I believe, may have been rather low on the list of concerns when it came to reasons to enlist.

That said, however, I don’t dismiss the idea that some others (… and, oh, the challenge of putting a number on them…) may have been concerned about the threat posed by “Black Republicans” as an extension of abolition… and what that meant to the cultural and economic upheaval of life as as the common Southern man knew it.

I think I may expand on this a little more in an upcoming post. Nonetheless, try starting to look at the soldier as the man first, and not the soldier “in the name of a cause” first.

Robert,
I understand there are many personal motivations behind joining up to fight for the Confederacy. What I was trying to convey, was the fact that personal motivations aside, you are fighting for more than just your own individual reasons. The gray uniform the soldier wore represents the government of the Confederacy. That government was founded to protect slavery. Thus, by putting on that uniform, the Confederate soldier was fighting for slavery. It doesn’t mean that the soldiers didn’t have other things on their mind regarding the “invading force,” but, they were fighting for slavery too, and I think that’s an important point we have to be upfront with.

You say, “Slavery existed. It’s what they knew all their lives. It was the status quo.”
Sure, I agree with that statement, but you fail to mention that the ‘invading force’ the Confederates were so worried about, in the Southerns’ mind, was coming to disrupt that very status quo.

BTW, this has been a great debate and I’ve enjoyed this little clash. It’s been fun, civil, and a great exchange of ideas. I’ve appreciated everyone’s contributions.

And, to be clear, I’m not saying that all men fought for personal cause alone, but that the Confederate military service was that chance to accommodate personal concerns. Again, that hierarchy of needs should be acknowledged… where personal reasons and concern about slavery were in those could vary, and, indeed, considering Mennonites and Brethren at an extreme point in that scale, slavery wasn’t even ranked as a motivation for service.

That’s a great suggestion. But I doubt that it would have much appeal with the leadership of the SCV, which seems to put a premium on high-profile, in-your-face symbolism that’s guaranteed to generate criticism and confrontation. I don’t have much sympathy for the SCV playing the oppressed victim here; they’ve been playing this game too long, and too well, for it to be anything but intentional. They know what they’re doing, and why.

Meant to add: You argue that the image of am individual, nondescript soldier might be an opening to discussion and exchange of ideas. Absolutely true. But the folks who buy shirts like this aren’t really interested in an open exchange of ideas, ya know?

Andy, I know exactly what you’re talking about re: the SCV. In fact, I sincerely believe that you and I could enjoy a beer together at a sit-down and chat… well, we might go through more than one by the time the chat was done… but since your in Texas, maybe we should touch base offline. I think you would be interested in knowing a few things that I’ve encountered.

let’s not forget that a good number of Confederate soldiers were conscripted-nearly twice as many as the Union drafted-and therefore had little choice about whether to fight for slavery or anything else.

I’m not sure I quite agree that conscription means that you MUST fight for something, regardless of your moral feelings on the situation. There are plenty of other options. If a draftee wishes not to join the army for a truly heartfelt belief, they’ll be willing to suffer the consequences.

I’ve never read More Damning Than Slaughterbut I have read Mark’s Higher Duty, so I’ve a basic understanding of the desertion crisis in the late war South.

As far as the Mennonites, I’m aware of the leakage through Jackson’s lines, as well as the crackdown on those trying to flee North and their incarceration in Richmond. Likewise, the story of your relative siding with his nation versus the forces of dissolution is both inspiring and laudable, and the ending is tragic.

But all those examples go toward the argument that, if someone had philosophical problems with the Confederacy and its policies, they could have avoided the draft (with clear consequences). By extension, those who went along with the draft, to some extent, were endorsing the policies of the Confederate government by their presence in the ranks.

I enjoy the polite sparring which we can undertake in the Civil War blog community, BTW. I think hashing out ideas like these is both fun and beneficial for all of us, as well as very useful to help consider differing perspectives. In short, thanks for the safe atmosphere for debate.

There’s a difference between Mennonite and Brethren, but still, yes, both were impacted in the Shenandoah… though my point for bringing them up was not that which you suggest. Rather, it centers around how conscription presented a problem to them. Some still ended up in the ranks, though in non-combat roles. So, the tacit agreement that Jacob suggests, did not exist in them… though they wore gray.

But, I’ll be turning this over again in another post that will also address others, in blue, who may have also gone to war thinking that the preservation of the Union may have afforded (at least initially in the war) an opportunity to extend slavery.

Indeed, I’ve enjoyed the exchange, and look forward to seeing how we can broaden views of Southern men in the ranks.

Good point, Robert. As you well know, there was an era in Civil War memory when “the common soldier” became the most prominent symbol of the war. Courthouse lawns across the country memorialize the nondescript man in blue or gray. Unfortunately that memory erases the individuality within the ranks by presenting a fictional common soldier as Johnny Reb or Billy Yank. The real people who fought for both sides, and all the personal diversity they brought to the war experience, blends within a uniform stereotype. They become a symbol as abstract as the battle flag. Bob Bonner’s book The Soldier’s Pen does a good job of addressing this problem.

I agree that we don’t need Forrest on a plate, and I love the idea of honoring the common soldier as a question-provoker, but I must take issue with the implication that leaders and symbols have no place, or that they don’t at all represent the “man in the car’s” ancestor. What I get from your argument is that someone like George Washington should not be used as a symbol by the NSSAR because its members’ ancestors were common Patriots, not GW himself. Are you really saying that a group like that today should not look to Washington, Jefferson, or even Greene or Knox, and the 13-star flag as representations of the heritage which their ancestors gave them? Or even more specifically that the NSSAR as an organization itself should do no such thing? What about sons of Union vets who look to Grant and the Emancipation Proclamation as symbols of their ancestors’ given heritage? I’ll keep this comment short because I think the point is understood- there’s a place to honor and understand the actual ancestor and common soldier, and there’s an American place for and way of revering heroes and symbols associated with causes; understanding both is essential to understanding the whole, and to say that members of the SCV should stop caring about leaders and flags because its members’ ancestors were common soldiers is inconsistent with the way that Americans in general treat their history.

Yes, the leaders and flags were part of the story if the men, but has evolved so much that it often has become the very story about the men. That’s inaccurate and a disservice to the complexities involved behind why the men were there, wearing gray or blue.

I’d also submit that the same applies to the Revolution. The leaders and the flag drive the story of the men in ranks, especially in the absence if a story from the men. That doesn’t define the private soldier.

Great post, quite thought-provoking. It’s good to see the attention that this issue is getting in the blogosphere. One of my colleagues posted an impassioned response to this same issue last week (I’ve included the link here in a shameless bit of self-promotion). I very much enjoyed reading this and appreciate your reflective commentary here. You confront us with the important question of whose memories are being preserved and whose lives are being honored through such commemorative events. Much of the debate over how to create an inclusive commemoration of the war has centered on how to tell the story of slaves and African-Americans and their roles in this crisis. Kudos to you for reminding us that we also need to include the stories of common men and women, too.

Thank you, Matt. I really appreciate your taking the time to comment, and your remarks. I’m all for the all-inclusive when discussing Southerners and even Southern Confederates. Hope you keep coming back to interact here!

Let’s not forget that a good number of Confederate soldiers were conscripts–nearly twice as many as the Union drafted–and therefore had little or no choice about fighting for slavery or anything else.

Also, as someone who plans to concentrate on Civil War soldier studies in grad school, I’m all for commemorating the common fighting man. But I think such a license plate will inevitably become another evasion tool for neo-Confeds. “See that boy in gray there? HE didn’t own any slaves…”

“But I think such a license plate will inevitably become another evasion tool for neo-Confeds. ‘See that boy in gray there? HE didn’t own any slaves…’”

Agreed. Perceptions are what they are for many folks. Some will say that which you suggests, while others will call him the “rebel fighting to defend the right to own slaves”. Neither is easily uprooted.

Still, if a license plate must exist… I’d prefer this suggestion as opposed to one showing a Confederate leader or a flag. My interest is more with the soldier as defined by the man, and not the man defined by the leaders or the flags.

IP Lynch came from a slave owning family in the Spartenburg area of SC. He had tryed to join at age 12 in 1861 but his parents stopped him until after his 14 birthday when Company D the Cross Achors were looking for replacements for their unit which was part of the Kershaw Brigade. I surmise he joined because he wanted to maintain his familys plantation but I have no records or testimony from my Grandma ( she was 20 when he died in 1933).

I wish that instead of stirring up the feeling associated with solely using Forrest that they could have used the 2014 tag to depict the battles of Brice’s Cross Roads and Tupelo. One of Forrest’s greatest victories coupled with one of his most disappointing defeats. I don’t think anyone would have found anything wrong with that.

[…] SCV’s Nathan Bedford Forrest commemorative license plate proposal, but Robert Moore suggested Wednesday that a better choice would be to put a generic Confederate soldier on it. This seems appropriate for several reasons, among others that there are a helluva lot more SCV […]

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